


Eye of the Beholder

by newnumbertwo



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newnumbertwo/pseuds/newnumbertwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professional Pyramid player Sam Anders went to University with Sandy Roslin; after the Roslins' funeral, he connects with Laura. Original Prompt from <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/">laura_mayfair</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Singerdiva01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/gifts).



Title: Eye of the Beholder: Chapter One  
Rating: T (This chapter)  
Pairing: Laura/Sam  
Word Count: 1206  
Disclaimer: don't own them.  
Summary: Professional Pyramid player Sam Anders went to University with Sandy Roslin; after the Roslins' funeral, he connects with Laura. Original Prompt from [](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/)**laura_mayfair**.  
A/N: Dedicated to [](http://singerdiva01-sk.livejournal.com/profile)[**singerdiva01_sk**](http://singerdiva01-sk.livejournal.com/) in honor of her birthday. Happy Birthday! *huggles* Much thanks to my betas [](http://lanalucy.livejournal.com/profile)[**lanalucy**](http://lanalucy.livejournal.com/) and [](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://laura-mayfair.livejournal.com/)**laura_mayfair**. This has been a labor of love for awhile now, and I'm so happy it's finished (mostly) and ready to post. *group hugs*  
A/N2: There are five chapters, and I'll post one a week (probably around Wednesday).

Laura stood at the gravesite. The three coffins lay before her. The priest sprinkled a bit of soil on each one near the end of his final blessing. Behind her were many of her father’s friends and former students as well as her sisters’ friends. And one person she hadn’t expected - Sam Anders. He’d just been signed to the C-Bucs. Her family’s funeral seemed an odd place to celebrate.

He’d remained in the back, and whenever she’d glanced his way, he’d looked like any other mourner. He certainly hadn’t made it about him, which she appreciated greatly.

After the priest’s final blessing, she faced the crowd, and a line formed to take turns saying their last goodbyes. She shook everyone’s hands and listened to their words of support and well wishes. Finally, Anders approached. He spent the most time at Sandra’s casket, but then he scattered some soil over Cheryl’s and her father’s. With his clean hand, he shook Laura’s hand. “Sorry for your loss.”

His eyes said he knew exactly how _inadequate_ his words were, but there weren’t any better ones to offer. “Thank you. You knew Sandra?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we had SOC 101 together freshman year.” He smiled fondly. “She helped me pass.”

She wasn’t surprised. Unlike Laura and their parents, Sandra and Cheryl had chosen not to become educators, but Sandra did have a tendency to help her friends. “And now you’re playing for the Bucs. You should be very proud.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a game. It has its moments, though.” He patted her shoulder gently. “I’ll let you go.”

She smiled sadly. “Will you join us?”

He shook his head. “I better head back.”

There was something in his eyes that said it had nothing to do with pyramid. She let that lie and simply thanked him, wished him a good season, and turned to walk toward her car. She dreaded what was to come. At least the reception would be in a restaurant. Then, when the last mourner offered his or her final regards, Laura could go home to her quiet condo.

//////////////////////////////////

She sat in _her_ seat in the coffee shop, enjoying her second cup of the day and checking messages on her computer before heading to work. A principal’s job was never done, she’d learned that year. And she’d thought teaching was demanding.

She began preparing to leave when there was a voice she’d last heard on the news - Sam Anders. He was placing his order.

She stopped packing up her bag. He was facing the counter, talking to the barista, and Laura’s eyes lingered. He looked well, fit, which was no surprise. He’d bulked up since she’d last seen him, and he had more...swagger, confidence. What would Sandra think if she could see him now?

She waited for the CLICKs of cameras from some hidden corner. An aggressive reporter to ask him for an exclusive. There was none of that.

He paid for his coffee, and the barista handed him his cup. Then he turned to leave. Only he didn’t.

His eyes locked on Laura’s face, and she realized she’d been staring at him. Her parents would not have approved of her behavior; she was almost glad she wouldn’t be able to tell them about it. “Laura?”

She nodded, and he approached her table.

“How are you? You busy? Can I join you for a few minutes?”

She smiled. “I’ll start with the last question. By all means, have a seat. I don’t have long - I should get to school.” She snorted. “But I’m the boss, and the vice principal would love to be in charge - even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

He laughed. “Sandra said you were always the boss, wherever you went.”

She rolled her eyes. “Benefit of being the oldest of three girls. Anyway, I’m fine, Sam. How are you? It seems like you’re really helping turn the Bucs around this season.”

He shrugged. “It’s a growing year. I’m just honored to be part of it.” He sighed. “But sometimes I just...Is this all I am?”

“I don’t know. I think being the most sought after rookie of the year is pretty impressive,” she said. “But I understand. Sometimes I want more, but I have no idea what. Or what it would even look like.”

He nodded. “That’s it. Exactly.” He shot her the million cubit smile that couldn’t quite hide the unrest she sensed. “Well, I should go before Coach hunts me down.”

“Yes, and I really shouldn’t let Joe run the school.” She giggled. “I’d get there, and half the kids would be assigned detention.”

“Oh, so you’re good cop?”

“Only until they cross me, yes.”

He stood. “It was great seeing you, Laura.” He appraised her. “You look...good. Really good. Could I maybe, I don’t know, call you sometime?”

She smiled. “I think I’d like that.” She pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to him. “You can use any of those numbers.”

“Talk to you soon.” Then he was out of the shop.

She took her last sip of coffee and stood. She reassessed she had everything and strode out.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

She closed the file folder with a satisfied huff. She still had more performance reviews to do, but those could wait - at least until tomorrow. She picked up the latest book in the “Colonies” series, her guilty pleasure. So far, she didn’t think the specific murder on Gemenon (as the title so cleverly indicated) was any more noteworthy than any of the thousands of real life ones, but she’d started the series with Cheryl and Sandy, so she would see it through. At least there were only twelve colonies.

Her mobile chimed. “Laura Roslin.”

“Hey, it’s me. Sam.”

“Hi.”

“Is it too late? Sandra always said you were an early riser.”

She laughed. “I suppose it did seem early to her since she never woke up before ten.”

“She did when she had an 8 a.m. class.”

“And hated every minute of it.”

He chuckled. “I’d bring her coffee in exchange for notes.” A pause. “Is it okay that I talk about her? About them?”

She could see why his interviewers always said what a thoughtful and kind subject he was. “It hurts to think about them,” she said. “But it’s a good hurt. I don’t get to talk about them much. Not like this anyway.”

“Yeah. It’s like they’re here. Almost.”

“Almost.” She sighed. “What about you? You must be busy with the tournament coming up.”

“Yeah. But it’s nice not to have to talk about it.”

“Oh. Do I make you uncomfortable bringing it up?”

“No, Laura. You make me feel like...more than a pyramid jock.”

She had nothing to say to that.

“And now I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said.

“No! I just…”

“Speechless, Roslin? Why do I have the feeling this isn’t a common occurrence?”

She giggled. “Because it’s not.”

“I’ll be at the coffee shop tomorrow morning.”

“Me too.”

“Great. Well, goodnight, Laura.”

He ended the call, but she held the mobile against her a moment longer, then placed it in her bag.

Until tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

She was running late, for her anyway. So when she arrived at the cafe, Sam was sitting in their spot, one coffee in front of him and one at her place. She strode to the table and placed her bag on the floor with as much grace as she could muster, and sat down. “Good morning.”

He smiled. “Good morning. I got cream and sugar - in the coffee, I mean. Hope that’s okay.”

He was nervous. Sweet. 

“Perfect.”

“Good. How was your night?”

“Good. Good. Yours?”

“It was, uh, good, yeah.” He shrugged. “Coach likes us to get a full night’s sleep every night, but that didn’t really work out. Oh, well.” He chuckled. “Gotta give the old grump something to yell about.”

She nodded. 

He shifted in his chair. “Too excited to sleep.”

“Oh?” She took a sip to buy some time. 

“You didn’t ask why.”

“I’m sorry. Is it the tournament?” He shook his head. “Something else, then?” she asked.

“Coffee.” He leaned forward.

“Coffee?” Had he overcaffeinated? Or…

“Not the coffee so much, but what it represents.”

She nodded. “This is a great shop. Good jazz in the background. Not the elevator crap most places play. Good location too.”

“Yeah, that’s...part of it.” He took a sip and cleared his throat. “Any kids giving you trouble?”

“The kids are surprisingly well behaved this week,” she said. “It’s the teachers who have my hair turning grey.”

“Don’t see any.” He appraised her hair. “It looks good to me,” he said. “But what are they doing?”

She shook her head. “It’s come to my attention yesterday afternoon that one of them is teaching about The One True God.”

“Oh. What are you gonna do?”

She sighed. “This is where it gets complicated. Teachers have certain protections, many of which I have fought for in this district,” she said. “The others my mother helped implement. So long as she isn’t spreading ‘terrorist propaganda,’ I can’t stop her. All I can do is _suggest_ she stick to the Lords of Kobol.”

He nodded. “Is she a worlds’ religion teacher? Or history?”

She shook her head. “Literature.”

“Well, that fits, I guess,” he said. “You gonna deal with that today?”

“I’ve asked her to my office first thing this morning.” She checked her watch. “I should--”

He stood and went to her chair and offered his hand. She took it and he helped her up. “Good luck, Laura.” He kissed her cheek. He picked up her bag and handed it to her, then placed her coffee in her free hand. She could get used to this. “I’ll call you later,” he said.   
He squeezed her shoulder. 

“I look forward to hearing from you.” She smiled. “Bye, and thanks for the coffee. I’ll treat next time.”

/////////////////////////////////////////

The first time he’d seen Laura was in a photo. He’d been sitting next to Sandra as she pulled up their class notes on her computer. As the program had loaded, the family photo had been the screensaver. 

Sandra’d blushed. “Don’t mind that.”

“I don’t,” he’d said. 

Sandra’s face had returned to its natural color, and she’d told him about her two sisters, her mother, who had died while she’d still been in high school, and her father. She’d said how great Laura had been throughout their mother’s illness, how she’d taken care of them.

“Sounds like an amazing woman. Amazing family.”

She’d smiled and nodded. “She is. And we are.”

After that, his conversations with Sandra had been filled with Laura stories: how bossy she could be, the books they read together, what she’d reported about her date the previous week. Discussions about dates had always brought an eyeroll and a giggle out of Sandy. 

_“Why? What was wrong with him?”_

_“Nothing, I guess. She just…”_

_“What?”_

_“Tends to attract the worst guys.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Cheryl is married already. And he’s wonderful - like the brother I never had, you know. But Laura...”_

_He nodded._

A few nights before the accident, she’d left him a voicemail. She’d had an idea she wanted to run by him. She hadn’t said what it was, and now he would never know. 

“What’s wrong?” Laura asked.

He blinked. “Sorry. I was thinking about Sandy.”

She nodded. “I do that all the time.”

“I didn’t tell you before, don’t know why. She left me a message just before….said she wanted to talk. But she didn’t say about what.” He shook his head. “Now, I’ll always regret not getting to the phone in time.”

She studied him, looking for...he didn’t know. “I never considered this before, though I probably should have. Were you in love with her?”

He smiled but shook his head. “No. I loved Sandy. She was a great friend. Like a sister. And she was the only one on that godsdamned campus that didn’t treat me like I was the Gods’ greatest gift to pyramid. She reminded me I was a mere mortal. Constantly.”

She laughed. “She always was good for that,” she said. “You would have been good for her. I would have liked to see you together.” She sighed. “But I would have felt guilty, or something, if you’d loved her.”

“Why?” He raised a brow.

She shrugged. “Since they died, I’ve been acting like grief and mourning only belong to me. Like no one else has ever felt this...emptiness before. If you had loved and lost her as I have, that would mean I’ve been depriving you.”

He covered her hand with his. “You haven’t been. And what you’re feeling, the personalization of grief, that’s natural. You’re not…”

She nodded. “Makes you wonder.”

“Wonder what?” 

“What she would have said. What she couldn’t say in a voicemail.” 

“Yeah.” He sipped his coffee. “I think about that all the time.”

//////////////////////////////////

“It’s been four months. Time to get out there again,” Marcia said. “And you don’t even have to find somebody, because I’ve got the perfect guy for you.”

 _Oh, dear._ Laura took a bite of her sushi, holding the wireless phone away from her mouth as she chewed. “Perfect, huh? What’s his name?”

This wasn’t the first time a loved one had played or attempted to play matchmaker for her. It also wasn’t the first time someone claimed to have found the perfect date (or partner) for her. After the police had left her condo that fateful morning, Sandy’s ‘perfect guy’ for Laura had been the furthest thing from her mind. 

Marcia’s sales pitch brought Sandy’s aborted matchmaking back to the forefront. Another suitor for her _ever lonely heart_. A younger man. Was he like whom Sandy'd had in mind? What were the odds they’d chosen the same man for her? “How much younger?” she asked Marcia.

Marcia gave a round-about answer, which meant he was a lot younger. Laura toyed with the notion of surprising her friend and choosing politics, but Sandy would have wanted her to go on this date, if only out of curiosity. 

_Sean Allison_. The name sounded familiar. Had she taught him at some point? How awkward would that be?!

“Of course, you could just upgrade your ‘coffee dates’ with Sam Anders.” Marcia mmmed. “Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on the vid screen?”

“We’re just--”

“--Friends don’t have coffee together every morning, Laura. And you didn’t answer.”

“Yes, he’s gorgeous. More so, I think. But only because he’s so...kind, grounded. And yes, we are friends. I know this because I actually talk to him.”

Marcia laughed. “You’ve got a point, there. I’ll call Sean and let him know.”

Laura ended the call and went back to her sushi.

/////////////////////////////////////////////

“A date? That’s...great. Who? Someone from work or something?” Sam asked. 

Laura shrugged. “Don’t really know. It’s a blind date.” She sipped her coffee. “It was this or join Adar’s campaign, and I _really_ don’t like politics.”

He laughed. “I don’t know, Laura. I think you’d be good at it.”

“Didn’t say I wouldn’t be.” She smirked. 

He shook his head. “Well, enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll do my best.”


	3. Chapter 3

She took a hard look in the mirror. She’d left Sean in her bed; he was probably wondering what she was doing. Maybe if she stayed long enough, he’d just leave. _No_. He was a gentleman - he’d say she’d taught him better - He wouldn’t go without making sure she was okay. Which would be worse. Even more embarrassing. 

She turned out the light and exited the bathroom. 

“Laura? Is everything okay?”

She nodded. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No. You didn’t,” she said. “Don’t call me again.”

He got the hint and scrambled out of her bed. She returned to the bathroom with her wireless phone and a cigarette. She sat on the floor against the cabinets as she called Adar’s campaign manager. She was in. All the way to the end. She took a final drag of her cigarette and thought of what she would say to Sam. 

///////////////////////////////////////////

When Sam arrived, she was already there. A coffee sat at his place. He kissed her cheek. _They could do that, right?_ That was a ‘friend thing.’ “Mmm. You smell great,” he said. “I mean, not that you don’t always…”

“I took a shower,” she said, grinning mischievously.

He chuckled. “Must be it, then.”

Something was off. There were circles under her eyes. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m afraid you were right.” She forced a smile. “I joined Adar’s campaign last night.”

“Oh. Great,” he said. “And the, um, date?”

She shrugged. “Nice guy, but we don’t suit.”

“Oh, no? That’s too bad.”

“Not really. I agreed to the date under protest,” she said. “And I had a much better time than I expected.”

Yet it was bad enough to push her into politics. “Well, that’s something.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you getting out there, Laura.”

“Now you’re sounding like Marcia.”

He put up his hands. “Oh, no. Don’t want that.”

She laughed. Then she sipped her coffee. “Hmm. Perfect.” She popped open the lid. “Yup, that’s ‘coffee colored’ to me. You can tell a lot about a person by their perception of ‘coffee color’,” she said. 

“You’re someone with impeccable taste, clearly,” he said.

“You too.”

“Nah. Just wanted to be sure it was up to your standards. Anyway, Jenny knows your order really well by now.”

They shared a laugh. That was one thing Sandy had never mentioned - how easy Laura’s laugh was, how infectious. Sandy had always described her as a workaholic, serious, efficient. All true, of course, but Laura always seemed to find the lighter side of a situation.  
“What about you? Anyone special?”

 _Talk about a loaded question._ “I’m not dating anyone at the moment.” _True enough._ “One of the few things my coach is pleased about.”

“Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “The old man thinks a girlfriend would be a distraction.”

“Probably.”

“Pyramid is one giant distraction,” he said. “Fast plays. Sudden switch-ups. Collisions on the court. Injuries.” He shook his head. “The ability to play through all of that. To make the perfect pass. The perfect shot. That’s what makes a player great.”

“Like you.”

“I guess, yeah,” he said. “I just mean, if anything, a partner could help keep all that straight.” 

“The right partner could, sure.”

“Yeah.” 

They sipped their coffees. 

“I can’t believe I’m looking at the future leader of the Twelve Colonies here. I’ll see you on the vidscreen and say, ‘I remember when we used to have coffee together’.”

“It’s really not a big deal, Sam. I’ll probably drive Adar crazy within the week with my binder system.” She laughed. “That’ll be a swift end to my political career,” she said. “Besides, I’d never want to leave education.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

Within moments of arriving, Laura understood why Adar had been pressing her to join his campaign. The office was a frakkin’ mess. The staffers worked under little to no direction, and Richard Adar was barricaded in his office. 

She clapped her hands and rolled up her sleeves. She put everyone to work cleaning and organizing. Then it was time to make a plan. For that, she needed Mayor Adar. 

/////////////////////////////////////////////

“How is it?” Sam asked.

“Busy. Very busy,” she said. “But it’s good. Yeah.”

“Adar hasn’t kicked you to the curb, then.”

She laughed. “No. He couldn’t afford to do that,” she said. “Actually, we work well together. Somewhat unexpectedly.”

“Not to me.” He took a sip. “I’m glad it’s working out.”

“Me too.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////

When victory was imminent, Laura began to extract herself from the campaign office. _Let the kids have their fun._. 

Adar looked up from his victory speech notes. “Where are you going?”

She smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. President Elect. You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Stay, Laura. Celebrate with me...with us.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be with you in spirit.”

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” He nodded. “I understand. You...I couldn’t have done this without you.” He reached out his hand for her to shake. “Congratulations, Madame Secretary."

“Secretary?” she asked.

“Of Education. If you want, that is. Transportation is available too, if you’d rather.”

She snorted. “No. I think Secretary of Education is more my speed. I’m honored you think I’m up for the task.”

He nodded. “I know this means you’ll have to leave the district. But,” he said, “think of how many children’s lives you’ll shape, Laura. The good work you’ve done for Caprica City you can duplicate across the Colonies. And you’ll have the full power and support of the Office of the President behind you.”

She smiled. “In that case, I’ll need some rest. Sounds like I’ll have a busy four years.”

He grinned and wished her well. 

She hurried home to a ringing phone. “Laura Roslin’s residence,” she said as she answered.

“Hey! Congratulations,” Sam said.

“How’d you know I’d be home?”

“Stay for a party? You? Nah. I bet you snuck out as soon as the final district was calculated.”

She smiled. “I didn’t sneak, I’ll have you know. I said goodbye to the President Elect and left after he offered me a job.”

“After you won the Office for him, a cabinet position is the least he could do.”

“He won it, Sam. I just...helped a bit.”

“Yeah, it was a little more than that. So how will you spend your night?”

“I have a bottle I’ve been saving,” she said. “I’ll sip it as I listen to the victory speech.”

“Which you wrote, right?” 

“Yes, but it’s all in his performance,” she said. “Would you like to join me?”

“Be right over,” he said. Click. 

She replaced the phone in its cradle and prepared for her guest. 

///////////////////////////////////////////

She poured their glasses as he turned on the vidscreen. “I’m not sure which channel,” she said.

“All of them,” he said. “Are you sure you wanna watch?”

She nodded. “The speech gets better with wine.”

He laughed. “Not your best work?”

She shrugged. “It’s quite a balance. Being firm, confident, charismatic, humble, supportive. Likable even,” she said. “I’m afraid Adar’s predecessors didn’t provide suitable examples on this front - their speech writers were rather...I had to wing it.” She laughed. “I’ll probably be doing that a lot.”

He lifted his glass to clink with hers. “To the Secretary of Education.” She gave a small smile. “May she whip the Colonies into shape the way she runs her school,” he said. She snorted. “And keep President Adar in line too.”

“So say we all.”

“I never met your mother. Or your father, for that matter. But I know they would be proud.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think my mother would be sorry to see me leave the classroom--”

“--The Colonies are your classroom. Endless possibilities.”

“Can you remind me that every time I have doubts?”

He smiled. “Always.”

The MC announced Adar’s victory and Richard Adar took center stage. His posture was perfect: triumphant yet humble. He’d crushed his opponent, but it wouldn’t do to rub it in. In politics, you were only as strong as your connections. And one’s connections were invariably enemies and opponents. Tim Sheehan hadn’t been the right person for the Office of the President of the Twelve Colonies, but he’d had powerful allies - and Richard would need them in the next four years.

“He’s off to a good start,” Sam said.

She rested her head against his shoulder and took a sip. “Yes, he is,” she said. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

After the fireworks, a tradition since the unification of the Twelve Colonies, he switched off the vidscreen. Laura snored softly, her head against his chest. He kissed her hair; then he debated his options: wait ‘til she awakened or carry her to bed. A good night’s sleep in her own bed would be worth the risk of disturbing her. He maneuvered off the couch and leveraged her into his arms: She was light. She needed to eat more. 

Her eyes flickered open. “Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“G’night.” She closed her eyes and didn’t reopen them. 

He found his way to her room and laid her on the bed. It was unmade - nice to see she wasn’t perfect, even if he'd already technically known that - so he pulled up the covers and tucked her in. He kissed her forehead and exited the room. 

He went into the kitchen and washed and dried their wine glasses and the dishes from the cheddar bacon ranch dip she insisted they’d eat. He returned everything to its proper place and left the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

“Did you put me to bed last night?” 

“Guilty,” he said into the phone.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

 _I’m not_. “Hey. You said you were tired. Full disclosure, right?”

“I wish I had made my bed, at least.”

He chuckled. “It did make it easier to cover you.”

“Maybe, but I have an image to maintain.”

“I’ll never tell.”

She laughed. “And you cleaned.”

“Just straightened. Wanted you to have a clean start today,” he said. “What are you doing today, anyway?”

“I’m officially between jobs. I should be working on my eight-point plan,” she said. “But I have a few months. No need to rush.”

“Why eight points?”

“Ten sounds like too much, and five’s not enough. So we start with eight - my team and I - I have to put together a team. Frak. As we accomplish things, I’ll add more to the list.” She groaned. “I’m reading up on my predecessor now. Not impressed.”

He fought the urge to laugh. This was a _lazy_ day for Laura. “I should let you go, then.”

“Hmm. Actually, I could kill for some coffee. Can we meet?”

He confirmed he was available and ended the call. 

///////////////////////////////////////

Laura adjusted well to her appointment as Secretary of Education. She had more power than she’d ever had, but she didn’t let it go to her head. To whom much is given, much is expected, and if her personal standards weren’t enough to keep her “honest,” the press’s scrutiny certainly was. 

Her rare press conferences made her appreciate the Press Secretary. They also made her temporarily forget she was a liberal. While she understood the need to sell newspapers and boost ratings, she wished her “story” was about taking charge of education across the Colonies from the ground-up. Instead, it was a combination of speculation about how she was the _real_ woman behind Richard Adar - Denise Adar’s shyness didn’t help the situation - and her relationship with Sam Anders.

She’d dignified neither with a response and continued on her path. Richard had simply chuckled and said, “Well, you did get me elected,” to which she’d demurred, even if _that_ was true. 

Sam had also been his typical even-tempered self. “I don’t know, Laura, I’m kind of enjoying reading about us,” he’d said with a wink. She’d smacked his arm, and they’d laughed together. Easy. Comfortable. And not at all like the torrid affair they had allegedly been carrying on. 

Aside from her annoyance with the freedom of the press, she enjoyed her work, much more that she’d ever thought she would. Eliminating inefficiency and cronyism was deeply rewarding. She missed working with children - her staff didn’t count - but she could see the big picture, that children everywhere would benefit from her actions. At least that was her hope, and ultimately the only standard by which she assessed her finished tasks. 

Then Seacade happened. 

She sat at her home office, coffee by her side, and made a list. The phone rang. She answered. “What are you doing?” Sam asked.

Not _how_ , _what_. “Well, I’m on leave, so not much.”

“I bet you’re making a list.”

She said nothing.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

“Tell that to the press.” She sighed. “It happened under my watch. So…”

“You’re punishing yourself.”

“No. I’m--”

“--Taking an unpaid leave. What’s that?”

“It always annoyed me when political frak ups would take paid leaves. Like no matter what, they’d get their cubits - our cubits. I wasn’t willing to do that.”

“You’re not a frak up.”

“Maybe not, but I’m a politician involved in a scandal. I think the designation is apt,” she said. “What about you? Calling in the middle of the day. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just...I kind of blew out my ankle--”

“--What!?”

“I’ll be fine. Trainer says to stay off it for a few days. We’ll go from there.”

“I’m coming over.”

“Aren’t you busy plotting worlds domination?”

“I can do that anywhere.”

/////////////////////////////////////

He lay on the couch, his right ankle wrapped in ice and elevated on a pillow. His face wore the determined expression of a man who was clearly fighting pain but didn’t want it to get the best of him. She shook her head. “What did you do to yourself?”

“Hey, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Part of being an athlete.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Need anything?”

“Just sit with me.”

She joined him, mindful not to knock into his bad ankle, and rested her head against his chest. He held her. “You okay?” he asked.

She snorted. “I think that’s my line.”

“I’m better now.”

She hmmed. “You know, one of the benefits of ‘working from home’ is nap-time.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Laura Roslin taking a nap.”

“Watch me.” She snuggled closer to him. He rubbed her back in slow, even strokes. She mmed and closed her eyes.

“So what happened?” she asked.

“That didn’t last long,” he said. “I guess there is something you can’t do.”

“I’ll have you know there’s plenty of things I can’t do. And I can nap,” she said. “I just have a bit of an active mind of late.”

“It was nothing. Lost my footing during practice. Ten-point rolled into me and onto my ankle,” he said. “Hurt like a frakker when it happened, but now it’s not so bad.” He rubbed a particularly knotted spot between her shoulders. “So tense. Let Doctor Anders take care of you, Doctor Roslin.”

She laughed. 

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor like my dad,” he said. “Oh, if they could see me now.”

“Where are they?”

“They died. I was in school. Our roof collapsed and crushed them.” She gasped. “That’s when I moved to Caprica with my aunt and uncle. They were old and never had children,” he said. “So they spoiled me. I think they felt bad about my parents and moving to a new colony and everything. I heard they have better building codes on Picon now.”

////////////////////////////////////

He’d broken the first rule of pyramid - he’d gotten distracted. Of course, he could blame whoever the genius had been who decided a vidscreen was a good idea on the wall of the auxiliary gym. They’d been practicing like any other day when he caught a glimpse of Laura. 

As much as she preferred to remain out of the spotlight, he’d seen her on the news several times since she’d become Secretary of Education. But this time had been different. She’d worn a contrite expression he’d never seen before: Laura rarely apologized for anything. She’d always said it was easier to apologize than to ask for permission, but then she would smile and add it was best not to have to apologize. 

He hadn’t been able to hear the broadcast, but he’d read the ticker: “Disgraced Secretary of Education apologizes for Seacade scandal.” Then Ten-Point had barrelled into him, and he’d gone down hard on his ankle. 

He groaned. 

“Okay?” Laura asked.

“Yeah. I guess it’s just time for more ice.”

“Coming right up.”

“Ever think of changing professions?”

She snorted. “Every day. But somehow I’m not sure I’d be good at this. Even if I did spend a lot of time taking care of my mother.”

She got off the couch. He missed her warmth instantly. She went to the kitchen, and he heard her filling up the bag with ice. Then she was back, wrapping it around his ankle with an Ace Bandage. “Do you need a drink or something?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You hungry? I’m kinda in the mood for Tauron.”

“The sweet or the savory?”

“Both.”

She laughed. “I’ll call. They’ll deliver here, right?”

He nodded. “Then I need your help with something.”

“Anything.”

////////////////////////////////////////

“How’s this feel?” she asked. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” She kneaded his ankle.

“No. It’s good.” He moaned. “Thanks.”

“You’re sure?” It was inflamed and angry looking.

“It’s keeping the circulation going,” he said. “Need that after hours of ice.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s only supposed to be twenty minutes at a time.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re here.” 

“Hmm.” She focused on the puffy area surrounding the round bone -whatever it was called. Anatomy and Physiology hadn’t been her best class in school. Rote memorization wasn’t really her thing.

“I guess the pain’s not too bad,” she said, smiling to herself. She was enjoying this too.

“Huh?”

“Your friend is saying hello.” She flicked her eyes toward his crotch.

She could almost hear him processing that. Then, “Oh my Gods. I’m sorry, Laura.” He sat up, pulling his ankle out of her grip.

“It’s perfectly natural, I’m sure.” She knew enough about massages to understand that, and was thankful her feelings weren’t so obvious. 

“It’s not that. I mean, it _is_ that yeah, but it’s...it’s you.”

“I’m sorry?” Her eyes locked on his, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“It’s you. You make me feel this way.”

 _Oh_. “I didn’t...I wasn’t aware...since when?” She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. She wished she had pockets on her pants.

“Before we met.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

He sighed. “When Sandy and I first started hanging out, helping each other with classes, Sandy’s screensaver was you, your family. It was...I don’t know. Fate or something - I could only see you, every time she got her phone out. I think Sandy knew too,” he said. “She kept telling me about you. What you like, your nightmare dates, your job, how you helped her prep for her tests.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

She reached for his hand. “Hey. It’s not...It’s just new. To me, I guess.” Sandy had been his friend. She must have always known he was in love with Laura from afar. And….

_Before Sandra and Cheryl had left the party with dad, Sandra had pulled Laura aside. “I found the perfect guy for you.” She’d smiled. “I’ve been grooming him for awhile. You know, since it’s not easy to live with Laura Roslin.”_

_Laura had giggled. “I’m very easy to live with. As long as everything goes my way.”_

_Sandy’d rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be in touch.”_

_“Why go to the trouble for me? Why not just groom him for yourself?”_

_Sandy’d shrugged. “Maybe it’s old fashioned, but I’d like to see both of my sisters happy and in love before it’s my turn.”_

_Laura had pulled her into a hug and had kissed her forehead. “Love you, kid. Be good tonight. We’ll talk about this ‘perfect guy’ later.”_

“Oh my Gods! You’re the one.”

“What one?” 

“The perfect guy for me.” At his confused look she added, “The day before the accident, Sandy told me she’d found someone, the ‘perfect guy’ for me, said she’d been grooming him for a while.” She squeezed his hand. “Must have meant you.”

He grinned. “Not sure about ‘perfect’.”

She smiled. “I am. Not perfect. Just perfect for _me_.”

He leaned forward. “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

She giggled. “I’d say it was overdue.”

He pecked her lips and released. She snapped her eyes to his. “Just kidding,” he said. He sat back and crooked his finger. “C’mere.”

This time she took the lead, leaning into him, and she didn’t stop at a peck.


	5. Chapter 5

“Too much?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “It’s just...we’re finally together, and I have a bum leg.”

She stroked his cheek. “Then we’ll wait.”

He groaned. 

She cupped him. “And I’ll take care of you now.”

His eyes flashed with awareness - and something else. He wouldn’t last long. 

She reached for his hand. “Come on.”

He struggled to sit up. 

“Can you make it?” She asked.

“If I lean on you, yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Crutches kind of kill the mood.”

“But you will use them, right?” 

“Yeah,” he said with little enthusiasm. 

She helped him stand and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders for leverage. “Too much?” he asked. 

She shook her head. Her mother had been dead weight at the end. This wasn’t nearly as bad. 

They shuffled toward his room. “Just so you know, my bed’s not made,” he said.

She grinned. “Neither is mine.”

She opened the door. Aside from the sheets lying askew, it was a neat room. Spartan. One book lay on the bedside table. The only photo was of her. It was from just before she’d become Secretary of Education. “Didn’t know you had that,” she said, pointing at the picture.

“That was a good day,” he said. “And I love that skirt on you.”

He sat on the bed, then pulled her flush against him. He kissed her earlobe. “Love this look too.”

She was in Yoga pants and a faded t-shirt from a long ago teachers’ retreat. She hadn’t exactly planned on leaving the house that day. “Really?”

“Yeah. It says you’ll be sticking around for awhile.” He grinned. “I like that.”

“Me too,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.” She gently pushed against his chest. “Lie down, Mr. Anders.”

“Is that your teacher voice?” he asked after he’d complied.

She raised a brow. “Do you want it to be?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe another time. You know, when I can fully enjoy it.”

She ran her hand along his trunk and chest. He wasn’t a _big_ guy - he wouldn’t be as agile if he were - but his abdominal muscles were impressive. She hadn’t thought of that as her _thing_ , but it certainly was now. It was probably _him_. “Then let Dr. Roslin make you feel better.”

She lifted the hem of his shirt, and he helped her pull it off. She tweaked his nipple until he shuddered. “Your reflexes function normally, I see,” she said. “Good.”

She stroked down his chest to his stomach and slid her hand under his waistband. She cupped him through his boxers. 

He groaned. 

“Let’s get those off, shall we?” she said, as she pulled down his shorts and boxers, careful not to knock into his ankle. 

She pushed against his chest until he lay back against his pillows. “Good.” 

She cupped him completely until he hardened in her hand. Then she stroked him until his body shook. “Please,” he moaned.

“Please what?” 

“Need to come.”

“Where?” She picked up the pace. 

“Oh, Gods….your mouth.”

“That can be arranged, I think.” She lowered her head. “You could use a bath later,” she said.

“Only if you join me.”

She hmmed. “That does seem the most expedient way to bathe you,” she said. “I mean, you’ll just get me wet anyway.”

“Gods, I love the way your mind works,” he said.

 _Me too_. She slowly wrapped her lips around him, listening to his groans and sighs. 

“Such a tease,” he said. 

_I know_. But she’d tortured the poor man enough, so she engulfed him. 

That was all it took. He came with a shout - her name rather than the Gods. She swallowed and sat up as he caught his breath. “Sorry,” he said, “Couldn’t last.”

“I think you lasted a long time. Considering.”

He collapsed against his pillow and she snuggled into his side. “Good?” she asked.

“Mmmhmm.” His voice heavy with impending sleep.

 _Typical man._ She smiled as he draped his arm around her. 

“Love you,” he said into her hair. 

It may have been her first time hearing him say those words, but she could tell it wasn’t his first time saying them. He’d been far too natural, at ease. Like he’d been saying it for years. “Mmm. Me too,” she said, and it wasn’t as scary as she’d always feared. 

He held her tighter. “I’m not going anywhere, babe,” he said.

_How did he always know what to say? Or do?_

“Besides,” he said, “You owe me a bath.”

 

/////////////////////////////////////////////

 

When Jenny heard the chime, she looked up from the espresso machine she was wiping. It was her favorite customers, Sam Anders and Secretary Roslin. She checked her watch. _Back on schedule_. Only today they were holding hands and smiling. 

They approached the counter. Sam spoke, “Good morning. We’ll have our usuals please.”

Jenny nodded. “Haven’t seen you two in a few days.” She moved to the ready-made regular coffee canisters and filled two mugs. “Coming right up.”

“This one wouldn’t let me out of the apartment,” Sam was saying. 

Secretary Roslin smacked him, but she laughed. “He sprained his ankle. And it was the doctor’s orders.”

“Which Laura enforced,” Sam said.

Jenny handed them their mugs. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, Sam.” 

He dug into his pocket. “Oh, no, Mister. I’m paying today,” Secretary Rosin said. 

“But you’re--” he started. 

“--I’m going back today,” Roslin said. “And I’ll fire every last one of them and start over.” 

_Seacade_. It’s been all over the vidscreen. Secretary Roslin had fallen on her sword, but it seemed like that was over. _Good_. Roslin would whip the whole government into shape. “If you ever run for president, I’ll vote for you, ma’am,” Jenny said.

Sam grinned. “That’s what I keep saying.”

Roslin smiled. “Thanks, Jenny, but I think I’m good where I am.”

Sam squeezed Roslin’s shoulder, and they took their coffees to their usual table. Jenny smiled as she watched them, and turned her attention back to the espresso machine. She kept half an eye on them as they talked, leaning into each other, smiling and flirting over their coffees. It was good to see them both so happy. They were good for each other.


End file.
